


picking up for yoo youngjae

by andnowforyaya



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Birthday Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 05:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2640185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daehyun spends all night not really sleeping because he is so looking forward to the next day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	picking up for yoo youngjae

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squishy_tokki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squishy_tokki/gifts).



> Happy birthday, B! This is for [punkjae!](https://twitter.com/PunkJae) :)
> 
> Hope you had/have a wonderful birthday and do fun things and enjoy yourself! 
> 
> Please enjoy my paltry offering of love for you below~~ <3

Daehyun spends all night not really sleeping because he is _so_ looking forward to the next day -- and not in any sort of sarcastic way -- because when he opens his eyes at seven o’-friggin-clock in the morning he will be 25, which in itself is cause for celebration (there was a point in his life, i.e., at age 18 with his head up his own ass, when he really thought he wasn’t going to make it); however, tomorrow will __also__ mark the beginning of the sixth continuous year of the most wonderful thing in his life: his relationship with one Yoo Youngjae.

Youngjae asked him out on Daehyun’s birthday, all those years ago. Like, he didn’t _know_ it was Daehyun’s birthday, and he didn’t _know_ it was Daehyun’s party, and actually they don’t really like to talk about how Daehyun’s pretty sure Youngjae didn’t _know_ what he was doing, drunk out of his mind, first year of college and all, and okay, it was a rocky start, but they made it. And now--

Daehyun’s smiling even before he wakes up, thinking about what sorts of events Youngjae has planned for them today. Youngjae didn’t used to be into events but Daehyun trained them into him, and now they have events for every little thing. Birthdays, the anniversary of their first kiss, their first break-up, their first getting-back-together, their first I-love-you’s, Mondays, that time Youngjae knocked over a display of fruit at the supermarket.

It’s really sappy. Himchan hates it; he thinks they give other people unrealistic expectations for romantic relationships.

The sun streams in, clear and weak, making everything faintly silver, and Youngjae’s lashes look especially beautiful fanned out over his pale cheeks like this. Daehyun leans over and kisses him on the nose and whispers, “Good morning,” and Youngjae grunts, screwing his eyes shut tighter.

“Mornin’,” Youngjae mumbles, rolling over onto his back, arms sprawled out. Daehyun wriggles up against his side and traces his fingers lightly over Youngjae’s exposed ribs, intending to tickle him to wakefulness.

“Youngjae,” Daehyun sing-songs. “Youngjae-ah, wake up.”

“No,” Youngjae says, swatting at his hand. “You can’t make me. It’s Saturday.”

“It’s Thursday,” Daehyun says.

“Fuck,” Youngjae says, only he draws it out for much longer, and it kind of trails off at the end, so it ends up sounding like, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuh.”

Daehyun digs his fingers into Youngjae’s side and smirks when Youngjae jumps, curling in on himself, trying to get away. As he squirms and laughs, Daehyun makes a game out of trying to bite Youngjae’s nose or chin gently. He gives himself three points! “What -- is -- the -- plan today?” he asks between bite attempts.

“Get off! Oh my god did you gain twenty pounds overnight?”

“Youngjae,” Daehyun whines. He pouts.

Youngjae, still laughing, finally opens his eyes in order to wipe away the tears that have gathered in the corners. “What? What is it? What plans? What are you talking -- Oh my god! It’s Thursday! I’m supposed to go in early today!” His boyfriend suddenly freezes, eyes wide as he thinks aloud about his day, checking the time on his phone on their dresser. “If I catch the bus in the next fifteen minutes I think I’ll be okay. Man, good thing you’re like a biological clock, right? Always up with the sun. Ugh, what would I do without you.”

Then he’s up and bustling around their bedroom. He throws his clothes around and somehow ends up fully dressed in a work-appropriate outfit. He takes his glasses with him because he can’t be bothered with contacts right now, muttering about the reports he needs to put together before noon today as he searches for his wallet and keys.

“They’re on the coffee table in the living room,” Daehyun says. “You left them there when you came back last night--”

“Thanks, Dae,” Youngjae says. He rushes back to the bed and Daehyun tilts his chin up automatically for Youngjae to peck him on the lips. “I’ll see you later, okay? I gotta run. Have a good day at work!”

It’s like a tornado went through their room. The door slams on Youngjae’s way out.

Daehyun slumps against the headboard of their bed. The spot Youngjae vacated is still warm. Daehyun doesn’t have work today. He’d called off his part-time job and also intends to skip the class he has this afternoon. He always takes the day off, for his birthday.

“I thought you called off today, too,” he says to nobody.

.

To a guy like Daehyun, there are fewer things worse than having to spend your birthday alone. Himchan messages him on every SNS app Daehyun has to wish him a happy birthday (and Yongguk quickly follows, though Daehyun has no illusions that Himchan was the one who made him do it), but it’s not the same. Himchan’s in New York. He’s far, far away, and Daehyun is alone.

“This sucks,” he says to himself after watching half a season of a dumb romantic drama that made him cry the second episode in, hand digging through corn kernels at the bottom of a bowl that used to contain popcorn.

Even though it sucks, he wants to wallow and takes his own perverse pleasure from it. He complains to Himchan, who tells him he should just _tell Youngjae_ , but Daehyun stubbornly refuses this advice on the grounds that _Youngjae should know because they’ve been dating for 5-going-on-6 years and Daehyun’s not going to be the one to remind him and then when Youngjae gets back he’s going to be so, so sorry._

“Okay,” Himchan texts him. “Drown in your own passive-aggressive sadness, then.”

Daehyun fully intends this. He will do this. He will get up and eat all the ice cream in the freezer and he won’t change out of his pajamas and he’ll get crumbs all over the bed and when Youngjae gets home he’s going to be so mad but he’s going to deserve that icky feeling and Daehyun is going to guilt-trip him forever.

Then, Daehyun gets tired of being sad at around 1pm, which is just in time for him to start thinking about lunch.

It’s his birthday, right? So he’s going to go to a great lunch place and treat himself to a fabulous meal and totally not be self-conscious about eating alone.

Resolved of this, Daehyun changes into jean shorts and a loose tank and brushes his hair and puts on some BB cream and decides he doesn’t like his hair today so he’s going to cover it up with a snapback. After all of that, he goes outside.

It’s a nice day out. Perfect weather. Wallowing is the only thing on his agenda right now, but Daehyun shields his eyes with a hand when he looks up at the clear, blue sky and smiles.

As if on cue, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Daehyun answers it. "Hello?"

“Hey, are you out yet?” Youngjae asks. “Only, could you pick up the dry-cleaning and bring it to the office? I totally forgot, and you know I have that dinner tonight.”

“What?” Daehyun asks. This is the first he’s heard of it.

“I didn’t tell you? My boss is taking me out for dinner tonight. I think it’ll be a good dinner, Daehyun. So...can you? Please?”

“Anything else I can do for you?” Daehyun asks grouchily, but he turns the corner to their local cleaners’.

“Can you pick up some sun screen?”

“Sun screen,” Daehyun repeats.

“Yeah, you know. My skin is so -- delicate. And stuff. And I ran out at the office. I mean, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course. Sure. I’ll just come over with your dry cleaning and a special-bought bottle of sun screen, just for you.”

“I mean, you could throw in a tube of lube if you want, too. We’re running low back home.”

“Dry cleaning, sun screen, and lube. Great. I won’t look completely crazy carrying those things around the city.”

“Well you’re not, like, holding a _giant stick_ with the word _lubricant_ in flashy letters or anything, so I think you’ll be fine.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Daehyun says.

“I know.”

Stomach grumbling, Daehyun enters the dry-clean shop and steps up to the counter. The man behind it is scratching lotto cards, but grins when he sees his customer.

“Can I help you?”

“Picking up?” Daehyun is a little uncertain if this will even work. Youngjae hadn’t left him a ticket or receipt. “For Yoo Youngjae?”

“Yoo Youngjae?” the guy repeats.

“Yeah.”

“ _Yoo_ Youngjae?” he asks again.

“Yes, Yoo Youngjae,” Daehyun reiterates, unable to keep his face from showing his slight annoyance.

“Picking up?” the guy asks for clarity.

“ _Yes_. Picking up for Yoo Youngjae.” Daehyun makes sure to enunciate each word, feeling heat rise into his cheeks. First Youngjae forgets his birthday and their anniversary, and now this guy.

The staff person finally stands from his stool and disappears through a curtain of clothes hanging from a conveyor belt of hooks. The conveyor belt begins to move, and the clothes swish and squeak against each other, all separated into their plastic coverings.

“Here,” the guy says, emerging from the curtain with a long black plastic cover that zips up around the clothes. “Picking up for Yoo Youngjae. It’s already paid for. You’re good.”

“It’s -- a lot?” Daehyun grunts when the guy drops the black bag into his arms. It’s heavier than he expected.

“Yes. Many suits. Apparently Yoo Youngjae wanted some options.” The guy goes back to his stool and lotto tickets.

Daehyun frowns and hefts the bag over his shoulder where it flops against him. "Thanks?"

The guy offers a halfhearted wave as he leaves.

Then, he goes to the convenience store for some sun screen. He hesitates buying the lube, but ends up purchasing it, too, along with a handful of candy and a packet of ramen crackers to snack on. It’s a balancing act, holding onto the sack of clothes and his bag of snacks, but he manages, the sun beating down on him overhead.

When he makes it to Youngjae’s office, his tank is drenched from his own sweat, and he’s sure his face is glistening and gross and shiny. Still, the receptionist in the lobby smiles at him and welcomes him, her teeth white and bright. “Your name? And who are you here to visit?”

“My name’s Jung Daehyun. And I’m here to see Yoo Youngjae,” Daehyun says, grumpy and sweaty and hungry. “I’m running an errand. Apparently I'm his errand boy now.”

“Ah,” the receptionist says. “Sorry. He’s out of the building right now. But he told me to give Jung Daehyun this.” She passes an envelope over the counter to him.

He takes it, thanking her. Daehyun stares at the envelope. Over the seal, Youngjae has written: _Do Not Open, Daehyun!_

Daehyun opens it. Then, he takes out the letter inside and unfolds it. A couple of bills of money fall out, and Daehyun scrambles to catch them. Youngjae’s neat, straight-lined handwriting greets him.

_Yah! Daehyun! I said don’t open this! But I knew you would, and I was counting on it._

A smiley face that has been crossed out has an arrow pointing to it with the words, “I decided I didn’t like this drawing…” by the first sentence.

_I bet you’re wondering what’s going on right now. Before you get dramatic, I am not breaking up with you! This isn’t that kind of letter. In fact, I don’t think I could ever even think about that, with you. No, I’m just writing this letter to give you some instructions, which are as follows:_

_One, did you pick up the dry cleaning, like I asked? Hmm, why don’t you take a peek inside? Hehe~_

_Two, I hope you brought sun screen._

_Three, please proceed to Gangnam Express Bus Terminal in a cab using the money here. We have a bus to catch!_

_See you soon. I love you._

_Youngjae_

Daehyun reads the letter over at least 5 times as the receptionist stares at him with her frozen, tight-lipped smile. “Did you know?” Daehyun asks her.

“Oh, is it bad? He asked me to give you the letter. I don’t know its contents; I’m sorry--”

“My boyfriend’s the best,” Daehyun interrupts, voice dangerously shaky, before stuffing the letter back into the envelope and tucking the whole thing carefully into the back pocket of his shorts.

“Oh,” the receptionist says. “That’s good, then.”

.

Youngjae, similarly dressed to Daehyun in a tank, shorts, and sandals, meets him at the top of the stairs. When Daehyun sees him he flings himself into Youngjae’s arms, dropping everything else onto the ground.

“Happy birthday,” Youngjae whispers into his hair as Daehyun holds him tight, tighter than he’s ever held him.

“You were cutting it close,” Daehyun complains. “I hated you for a full five minutes.”

“Were you surprised?” Youngjae asks, drawing back so he can look into Daehyun’s eyes, so he can kiss him on each cheek before planting a soft kiss on his lips, too.

“I thought you forgot.”

“Never.”

Daehyun’s eyes are wet. Youngjae brushes his thumbs under them and coos at him like he’s a puppy and Daehyun laughs and sniffs and nuzzles his wet face against Youngjae’s shoulder. “Where are we going?”

“Sokcho,” Youngjae says. “I made reservations at this nice hotel weeks ago. And we should get there just in time for a good dip at the beach and the opening of the night market.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Daehyun mumbles into Youngjae’s skin. He can’t help himself from nibbling a bit on his shoulder. His skin is so soft.

“I know,” Youngjae says. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They stay like that, holding onto each other at the top of the stairs, swaying a little like they’re dancing.

Daehyun could stay like this forever.

“You brought the lube, right?” Youngjae asks, earning himself a smack on the arm by Daehyun.

Yeah, forever.

.

**Author's Note:**

> [writing](andnowforyaya.tumblr.com) || [twitter](https://twitter.com/andnowforyaya)


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